


Who Knew Demons Were So Flirtatious?

by TheAlternativeRuler



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/F, Flirting, M/M, ouija board au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 16:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6431803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlternativeRuler/pseuds/TheAlternativeRuler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Pines' annoying ghost turns out to be an incessantly flirting demon, what's a poor Pine Tree to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Knew Demons Were So Flirtatious?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tumblr post I saw about Bill being a demon that Dipper made contact with when using a Ouija board.

Dipper takes in a deep breath and flicks his eyes to his sister and then to her girlfriend, Pacifica. “You ready?”

Mabel nods eagerly. “Let's see what this thing’s deal is!” Pacifica just gives a slightly bored wave of her hand, signaling him to go on.

“Okay, hands on the planchette.” The twins gently place their fingers on either side of the wooden triangle-shaped object. A strange chill runs down Dipper’s spine, but he shrugs it off as just an atmospheric effect.

Pacifica straightens up and grabs her notebook and pencil. She’s going to write down the questions and their responses as the interaction goes on.

Dipper looks down at the Ouija board, bathed in candlelight, which only makes it look that much creepier. The smell of incense is strong in the room, and it almost feels like they're encased in a bubble of soft lights and heavy smells.

Mabel nudges him with her hip and he jumps a bit. “Oh, uh, right.” He clears his throat. “Is anyone there?”

Nothing happens for a moment, and he's ready to call bullshit on the whole idea, when the planchette turns and slowly edges towards a yes. 

“Oh my God,” Mabel mumbles. Her eyes are wider than saucers, staring at their hands. “Dipper…you're not moving it to fuck with me, right?”

“I swear to God I'm not,” he replies, watching their hands in a similar manner of disbelief.

“Whoa,” Pacifica says breathlessly. She shakes herself after a second and writes down what happened.

“Ask another question,” Mabel whispers, now looking more curious than shocked.

“Okay, are you a ghost?” Their hands move to the no side.

Dipper gulps. “A-A spirit of some kind?” They stay at no.

“Are you a demon?” Mabel blurts. Their hands almost enthusiastically move to the yes side again.

“Oh, shit,” Dipper mutters. Of course it had to be a demon. Just their luck.

“So we have a demon, huh? Wendy totally owes me twenty bucks.” Mabel grins. Grins at the fact that they have a literal demon with them in the room.

“What is your name, demon?”

Pacifica’s pencil flies as the twins hands move rapidly from letter to letter. Dipper’s arms seem to be moving in ways they normally couldn't, at least not that quickly, as they skate across the board. It's more than slightly alarming.

“Bill Cipher,” Pacifica tells them when their hands stop.

“Bill Cipher? What kind of a name is that for a demon?” Dipper scoffs.

Their hands quickly skid across the board again. “I'll have you know it’s a name that strikes fear in the hearts of many.”

“Oh, I'm sure,” Dipper says sarcastically.

“So why have you been messing around with our house?” Mabel asks.

Bill takes a moment to answer, then suddenly there go their hands. “I took a certain…interest in the two of you. Especially in you, Pine Tree.”

“Pine Tree?” Dipper questions. Pacifica points with the end of her pencil to his hat. Oh, right. “Should we be worried? It's probably not a good thing for a demon to take specific interest in you.”

“I don't know, it could be a very good thing for you.” Dipper somehow feels that was directed at him specifically. He shivers, feeling pretty disturbed by that notion.

“So you are the one that's been pushing our furniture around and moving stuff, right?” Mabel checks.

Back to the yes side again.

“That seems a bit juvenile for a demon, don't you think?” Dipper scoffs.

Their hands immediately spell out, “Careful, Pine Tree. I like to play pranks on you meat sacks sometimes and I start out fairly lukewarm with them, but I'm still a very powerful demon. It'd do you well not to insult me.” 

Pacifica raises an unimpressed eyebrow in Dipper’s direction. “Don't piss him off already, idiot.”

“So Bill, where do you live?” Mabel asks before gasping loudly and squealing, “Do you work for Satan ohmygod!”

The eye-roll is so prominent and necessary it seems tangible before Bill answers with, “No, Shooting Star, I do not work for ‘Satan.’ Who, by the way, isn't technically real. I do know the demon that you fleshlings have modeled him after, though.”

“Shooting Star?” Mabel mouths and her brother nods at the sweater she's wearing.

“Anyways, I live in the Mindscape, one of an infinite number of dimensions that exists in this universe. It's one of the dimensions closest to yours, which is why I'm able to talk to you clearly and manipulate your surroundings.” Bill flicks the main lights on and off to demonstrate.

“Wow, so there are multiple dimensions! I have to tell Great Uncle Ford, he’ll go nuts over this,” Dipper says with an excited smile.

“…Ford…Standford?” Bill questions, many pauses between the letters and words this time.

“Yeah, he’s one of our great uncles,” Mabel answers with a nod.

They're left with a long silence, so long that Dipper begins to worry that the demon left. “Bill? Are you still there?”

The involuntary movement of their hands makes the boy sigh in relief, Pacifica carefully tracking the movements. “Yes, I'm still here,” Bill responded. “I just didn't know that you were related to Stanford Pines.”

“You know him?” Mabel blinked in surprise. Bill leaves it at a simple yes.

“How?” Dipper’s brow is raised in suspicion. 

“Another story for another time.” Is the only answer they receive.

“Fine. Are you going to stop harassing us now that we’ve caught you red handed?” Dipper insists.

“No, of course not. In fact, my lovely little Pine Tree, your suffering has just begun. Soon enough, I will be the only thing on your mind, as I rightfully should be.”

All three seem to shiver a little at that, but no one has the same horrified grimace as Dipper.

“Well, I’m afraid I must depart, for now. But don't worry, kids, I’ll be watching you.”

Suddenly, the candles all go out and the room is plunged into darkness, none of them realizing how late it had gotten. Pacifica, Mabel, and Dipper yelped in shock and fear initially, before the main lights slowly crept back on.

After a long pause, Mabel says (much too brightly), “Well, that was fun!”

Her twin sighs and flips her hair over her face in response.

~*~*~*~*

Over the course of the next few days, Bill’s antagonizing gets steadily worse. Furniture and other things are still moved around or misplaced, but he’s beginning to show his existence in other ways.

The morning following the first contact with the demon, Dipper and Mabel find tons of extremely small triangles burned into the wood around the Shack. The grand total is 215, but they most likely missed a few.

The next day, Dipper discovers deer teeth in his water glass in the bathroom, with a sticky note that reads, “For you, kid!” With a churning stomach, he tears up the note and buries the deer teeth out in the woods far from the Shack.

The day after that, Mabel finds small eyes burned into the inside of both their rooms’ doors. No matter where you stand, they always seems to be looking right at you. She sticks caticatures of them over it.

On the fourth day from their first conversation with Bill, they see eighteen blood-covered white roses forming the shape of a pine tree on the floor of Dipper’s room. It’s filled in with light blue forget-me-nots. Mabel jokingly says that it's romantic. Dipper burns all of them.

The fifth day is when Dipper draws the line. When he stumbles into the bathroom to get ready for the day, he finds himself blinking blearily up at a message written on their mirror in what can only be blood, “You’re absolutely beautiful.” Realization comes along with a slap of awareness and Dipper barely holds back a scream. His horrified expression is staring back at him, blood slowly trickling down the mirror from the written words, staining his reflection red.

He wakes Mabel up and—after showing her the gory message—they call Pacifica and ask her to come over as soon as possible.

Once again, the three of them settle down at the Ouija board, the twins holding the planchette and Pacifica ready with pencil in hand. This time feels much more frightening. It isn't as if the candlelight is encasing them in a soft bubble, it’s as if the darkness is closing in and trying to punch through their weak defenses.

“Bill, I know you're there. Answer us,” Dipper bites out angrily.

Their hands begin to move not long after. “Ah, Pine Tree. It’s a pleasure to speak with you again.”

He glares at the board, gritting his teeth around his next words, “Well you know what wasn't a pleasure? Waking up to that bloody surprise in our bathroom.”

“Yeah Bill, what the heck was that about?” Mabel asks, pouting a bit, thinking about the cleaning that mirror’ll need later.

“What, you didn't appreciate my gesture of affection? I was complimenting you, sweet sapling,” Bill replies with what feels like a palpable smirk.

Dipper blushes at the stupid nickname and yells in flustered anger, “No, I did not appreciate your little ‘gesture!’ Nor any of the others you've left for us over the past few days!” He sighs heavily and almost lets go of the planchette to run his fingers through his hair in frustration. “What game are you playing at, Bill? You have to have a reason for leaving all this creepy shit around the Shack.”

“My game? If I have to tell you, then I must be losing it.” There's a long pause, which he and Mabel shrug at after exchanging a confused glance. “Eh, it doesn't matter. I'm still going to win. And I'll have a quite a delectable prize when I do.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Mabel asks, furrowing her brow in confusion.

“Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it, Shooting Star.” Pacifica glares at the board after reading out what he said, taking it as an insult to her girlfriend. “Hey, you stupid demon, you can't talk to her like that!”

“I’ll talk to her any way I want, kid.” Their hands start to skid across the board faster and faster, Pacifica struggling to keep up. “You all seem to be forgetting who I am exactly. I'm Bill Cipher, an all-powerful being of pure energy with no weaknesses. I've seen and been the cause of the falls and deaths of thousands of you meat sacks. I'll do what I want, when I want, and there's nothing you kids can do to stop me.”

He seems to notice their terrified faces, because he starts to laugh. Dipper’s and Mabel’s hands bounce back and forth between the ‘a’ and the ‘h’ so quickly that they're flung from the wooden triangle. It continues to move without their help, then the letters start to glow a bright and bloody red as the planchette moves faster and faster. Then suddenly, it’s flung violently from the table and embeds itself in the wall across the room. All the candles go out simultaneously, as does the light from the Ouija board.

Dipper shakily stands up and stumbles over to the light switch. Once the room is lit again, he sees Mabel and Pacifica holding hands tightly with worried faces.

“Is that bad? I feel like that's probably pretty bad,” Mabel says, biting her lip.

“Yeah, should we do something about this? Like, call an exorcist or something?” Pacifica looks distressed as she drums her nails against the table.

Dipper shakes his head in answer. “It won't do any good. He has too much control here at this point. Our best bet is to find a way to deal with him ourselves. Preferably without getting killed or having our souls sold off.”

They all share an intimidated and fearful look, then Dipper walks over to the other side of the room and yanks the planchette out of the wall.

~*~*~*~*

Later that night—after Pacifica went home—the younger Pines twins went to Mabel’s room to watch some old cartoons, not wanting to re-enter the living room after the day’s events. 

Dipper sighs heavily, relaxing into the mass of pillows and stuffies on his sister’s bed. She smiles and leans over to push his cap down playfully. He snickers and punches her arm in retaliation.

“Hey broski, why do you think Bill’s doing all this?” Mabel asks idly, not even looking at him as she does so.

He raises a brow in questioning, but answers her regardless, “Honestly I think he’s just trying to be a creepy asshole.”

“Really?” She sounds surprised, then she gets this strange smug look on her face that makes Dipper want to squirm.

“Uh, yeah? Why do you think he's doing it?” he asks nervously.

Mabel snorts. Then she giggles. Then—much to Dipper’s chagrin—she starts to full-on heave with laughter, clutching her stomach and rolling all over the bed.

Dipper stares at her, not without fear, and timidly asks, “What’s so funny?”

She snorts again as she starts to calm down, wiping at her eyes with a big grin on her face. “YOU, you're what’s funny!”

He pouts and crosses his arms (a bit childishly). “Yes, I gathered that. But why?”

Her smile morphs into a smirk (which is ten times more terrifying) as she answers, “Well, you're just incredibly naive. Like seriously, you may have a problem, bro-bro.”

“Hey, I'm not stupid. That's pretty mean, coming from my own sister.”

“I didn't say stupid, I said naive. There's a difference.”

Dipper rolls his eyes. “Okay, so what am I being so ‘naive’ about?”

Suddenly, Mabel lurches forward and grabs her brother’s shoulders, giving him an incredibly serious look. “Dipper. There is a possibly old, pretty powerful demon lurking about our house. But instead of possessing anyone or trying to steal our souls, he's been leaving things around the Shack. Things that mainly seem to be for you. Things like flowers and messages.”

He quirks an eyebrow, not sure where she's going with this.

Mabel gives a long-suffering sigh before saying very slowly, “He. Is. Flirting. With. YOU.”

Dipper blinks in surprise, then flushes a deep red and splutters out, “Th-that's completely ridiculous! Why on earth would a supposedly ancient, powerful demon f-f-flirt with a random mortal like m-me!? You're insane, Mabel!”

“Dipper, it all matches up! The flowers, the notes and messages, the suggestive comments during our contacts that always seem aimed at you. He's totally flirting with you, it's so obvious!” she insists, shaking him back and forth.

“Like I said, you're crazy. There is absolutely no way that's why he's doing all this. And if it's coming off that way, it's because he wants us to let our guard down so he can trick us or something.” He glares, pushing her off of him.

“Dip n’ Dots. He called you beautiful. He's flirting. Hardcore, at that.” Mabel gives him a frustrated look.

“Mabel. He. Is. A. Demon. He's not interested in me, and I'm done talking about this.” He turns back to the forgotten T.V. screen, huffing in anger (but mostly embarrassment).

She mutters something that sounds an awful lot like, “This is that naivety I was talking about,” before settling down next to him with a defeated sigh.

~*~*~*~*

Dipper’s last nerve is plucked early the next morning. So early in fact, it's still pitch black outside. The birds aren't even awake yet, calling out to each other from tree to tree. The only noises are crickets and the sounds of nocturnal animals (or monsters).

He wakes up for seemingly no reason, still drowsy from sleep. He blearily looks at the clock, sees that it's only 2 am, and groans, flopping back down on his pillow. Dipper tries to fall back asleep, only to feel a strange tug on his leg. He sits up again, tilting his head in confusion. Just as he starts to brush it off as his imagination, he feels another tug, much stronger this time, causing him to dig his hands into the sheets.

Dipper’s wide awake now, pulling his legs close to his body and breathing heavily, bordering on hyperventilation. He looks over the edge of his bed, but there's nothing there. The pounding of his heartbeat and the rush of blood is in his ears, a nervous sweat dripping down his forehead.

Another tug pulls him right off the bed and Dipper crashes to the floor with a frightened yelp. Quickly, he grabs one of the legs of his bed frame and hangs on for dear life. As he digs his nails into the wood, he feels whatever invisible force that's pulling at him inch its way up his leg. It feels almost like it’s caressing him. He stares at nothing in horror as it reaches his knee, then kneads up his thigh. 

Dipper shudders when it seemingly disappears, hoping against hope that it’s over. But obviously, his luck won't allow that. 

Without any sort of warning, the thing rips his pants down, literally rips them to free the fabric from his body. He screams, kicking at air, not making contact with anything as he scrambles up the bed. 

A seductive chuckle rings in his head, and what’s going on suddenly clicks in Dipper’s mind. With realization comes an extremely fierce blush, so red that he must be glowing and his head swims from the immediate rush of blood. He glares at absolutely nothing, whispers several curses in Latin, and gets up to grab another pair of pants from his dresser. He pulls them on, still furious, and slams candles and their Ouija board on his desk. It takes a few tries, but he finally lights a match and the candles are glowing softly, wax from their previous uses dripping down onto the wooden surface.

Dipper really shouldn't be doing this alone—if something happens to him, no one will know or be able to help him—but he's too angry to wait and wake his sister.

He places his hands on the planchette and growls, “Talk to me, asshole, I know you're here.”

Not a second has passed before the smooth sound of wood against wood is echoing in the small room. “Well that’s no way to properly greet a guest.”

“It is if they're incredibly unwelcome, annoying, crazy, and now perverted.” He glares at the board, forcing himself to keep his fingers straight and not ball them into furious fists.

“Now that's just rude, Pine Tree. I am none of those things. Well, crazy isn't the term I prefer to use, at any rate.”

“You are all of those things and many more that I could list.”

There's a sense of annoyance that isn't Dipper’s, then a sigh of defeat. “Whatever. So, to what do I owe this particularly pleasurable conversation?”

“Oh, don't you even start! You know exactly why I'm contacting you right now!” he yells, twitching in fury.

“I'm afraid I have no idea why I could possibly deserve this onslaught. Though any time I’m able to talk to you is an absolute delight.”

You are not blushing because of what he said. That's an angry flush. You are not affected by anything this bastard has to say.

“Shut it, Bill. I'm not in the mood for your stupid games and feigned innocence,” he snarls.

“Then what, pray tell, are you in the mood for? Candle light and pillow talk at 2 in the morning seems to lend a certain suggestion.” Dipper can just hear the suggestiveness as if it were spoken aloud, which of course causes him to blush even more than before.

“Bill! Shut the fuck up! You know I'm talking about what you just did to me and I'm obviously not happy about it,” he shouts, completely fed up with the dumb demon.

“Oh, that.” Bill has the gall to act as if he didn't know the whole time, the shitstain. “Well, why ever not?”

Dipper sputters, “B-because you can't just do that! Messing with the Shack was infuriating enough, but messing with my body is taking it too far.” His voice falls in volume. “Why would you even want to do that?”

“Isn't it obvious, my succulent sapling? I want to get into your pants.”

At this point, Dipper is blushing so brightly that he can feel the heat coming off his cheeks. It's all the way up his ears and down his neck and shoulders. “Y-you…” He tries to glare past the flush in his cheeks, but he can tell it's not very effective.

“Aw, why’re you still so angry? It's only a compliment from me to you, you should be honored.”

This washes away some of the embarrassment and replaces it with rage. “You're not my significant other, Bill, you can't just rip my pants off and expect me to not be upset about it!”

There's a long pause, which makes Dipper incredibly nervous when Bill finally answers him. “So, it's the fact that we’re not dating that makes you mad, huh?”

All the candles blow out at once and Dipper is plunged into darkness without warning. He turns around with a sigh, figuring the demon was done talking to him, only to find a small blue flame suspended in the air. He walks closer out of curiosity, but comes up short when the flame begins to grow. It becomes big enough to have a roar of sound, even when there's nothing for it to burn.

From the center of the inferno, a bright white, triangular shape rises. Dipper squints into the light, trying to make out what it is, but it's too impossibly blinding. He hears a by now familiar laugh as the triangle grows arms and legs, what looks like a top hat, and a cane. He thinks he’s about to see Bill’s demon form, but the irritating isosceles jackass isn't done yet. The arms and legs continue to grow, fleshing out as the triangle moves up and becomes more ovular, then grows a neck and torso. The laugh loses its echoing quality and becomes much more close and personal, while fabric coats the human-like form. With a last flash of light, the fire burns out and standing before him is Bill Cipher.

Bill looks like he's in his early twenties. He's much taller than Dipper, though not incredibly muscular. His skin is a dark brown, but golden freckles speckle across it, his hair blond as an outstanding contrast. He's wearing a suit of golds and blacks, holding a long cane, and donned with a sleek black top hat. Dipper sees golden triangles dangling from his ear lobes and cuffed around the rest of the skin, glinting in the dim light from the candles behind them, which Bill must have lit again.

He’s…wow. He's gorgeous. And when he flashes a wide grin at Dipper, the brunette finds himself blushing horribly. 

Oh no, he’s hot.

The demon saunters up to him, the heels of his boots clicking lightly on the wooden floor. Bill leans down and grabs Dipper’s chin, smirking as he brings their faces closer together. 

“Well hello, my little sapling. It's absolutely lovely to finally meet you in person.”

The poor boy wants to curl up on his bed and die. Bill is an annoying asshole, it's not fair that he's also incredibly attractive. So much so that Dipper can't ignore it, despite everything he was just mad about.

“H-h-hi,” he squeaks, completely mortified at how high his voice is and how he stuttered. A positively sinful chuckle follows this little outburst and Dipper almost melts like candle wax all over the floor. 

“So. You’re upset with me touching you because we aren't in a relationship, is that right?” The shorter man nods slightly. Bill smirks. “Good, good. Then, I know exactly how to remedy this little situation.”

No.

There's no way.

He’s not gonna—

Fuck he is gonna.

“Dipper Pines, will you go out with me?”

It's like he breaks after hearing those words. He's suddenly lifeless, not blinking or responding to anything Bill says or does, just staring blindly at nothing.

“Hello~? Pine Tree, wake up! I just asked you to be my boyfriend and you blank out on me? That's probably the rudest thing you've done all night!” The demon snaps in front of his human’s face and Dipper jolts as if awoken from a stupor.

“Y-you're a demon, w-why on earth would you want to d-date m-me?” he stutters, still in shock and disbelief.

This causes the other to roll his eyes and scoff. “Now don't you start with all of that shit. You're incredibly smart, weird as hell, and I enjoy our banter. It's cute to see how angry and flustered you get.” Bill grins widely. “So, now that you know that I do indeed like you, is it a yes or a no? Tick tock my darling Pine Tree.”

Dipper thinks back to what his sister said earlier. He thinks about how he's gotten kind of accustomed to their house demon. How some of Bill’s antics were actually romantic, in a creepy, demonic sort of way. How tempting he looks, standing there with a devilish smirk as if he’s already won.

Maybe he already has.

“Hmm,” Bill hums, putting a hand to his chin. “Perhaps you need a bit of convincing?” He shows off all of his sharp canines in the widest grin yet as he leans in, pulling Dipper’s head closer as well until they meet in the middle in a kiss.

Dipper whines high in the back of his throat, first out of surprise, then out of pleasure as he feels his lips mold to the warm ones of the other. Bill begins to work his lips against Dipper’s, causing the man’s knees to shake as he reaches up to wrap his arms around the demon’s shoulders. Bill growls, one arm possessively wrapped around his human’s waist, the other hand cupping his cheek and using its grip to control the kiss. 

With a slick swipe of his tongue, Bill ends the kiss, pulling away, but not removing his limbs from the brunette’s body. Dipper pants, feeling his kiss-swollen, now slightly wet lips part from the blond demon in front of him. 

“Was that a good enough demonstration for ya, Pines?” Bill questions, licking his lips.

In response, Dipper uses his arms—that are still wrapped around the other’s shoulders—to pull him closer so that they’re breathing on each other's mouths, almost kissing again. He lowers his eyelids so that his lashes brush his still-blushing cheeks and simply says, “Yes.”


End file.
